


Alive

by lovelynemesis



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Bucky Barnes Fluff, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hostage Situations, Stark Tower
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-10
Updated: 2017-05-10
Packaged: 2018-10-30 11:39:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10876017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovelynemesis/pseuds/lovelynemesis
Summary: You are a reporter who gets taken and held hostage. The Avengers save you, but you want back what was taken from you.





	Alive

**Author's Note:**

> I can't decide if I want to do a part 2 for this or not. Help me me out and tell me what you think?!

You leaned over the balcony railing and watched the cars down on the New York City streets.

Two months ago, that had been you. Going on with your routine life every day. 

Then one night as you were on your way home from work, your routine had been taken away from you. 

The sliding glass doors behind you opened and closed. Tony appeared at your side, holding a mug out to you. Taking it from him, you took a sip of the coffee and turned your head to look at him.

“I take back what I said in my article about Stark Tower. This view you have makes up for the gaudiness of the building.” You chuckled at his eyebrow quirk and lopsided smile. 

“Wow, was that an apology I heard?” He cocked his head at you, “I’m quite shocked. If my memory serves correct an up and coming, cut-throat reporter writes a scathing story in the Sunday paper about my apparent need to compensate my lack of manhood with ‘gaudy’ and ‘preposterous’ building on the cities north side.” 

You looked back down at your coffee with a chuckle, “Yea. Not one of my finest moments.” 

“You’ve gotten better over time,” he said, turning around to look out at the view as well. 

“Thank you for that.” You nudged his side with your elbow. 

He was silent for a moment. You watched him out of the corner of your eye. He lifted the sunglasses off his eyes and hooked them in the collar of his shirt. Tony ran his hand down his chest in a nervous gesture before turning toward you, “Have you been talking to the therapist I hired?” 

Sighing, you rotated your body to lean your hip against the railing. You took another drink of coffee, “If I answer your questions, will you answer mine?” 

“Of course,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. 

You nodded as you replied, “Yes, I’ve been seeing the therapist.” 

“Is it helping?” He asked as he reached out for your coffee mug. You handed it to him and waited to answer him until he set it on the table behind him. 

“I guess,” you shrugged. “I mean, it’s not easy to talk about. But she doesn’t pry or make me talk.” 

“And the synthetic skin grafts?” he asked, pointing to your shoulder.

You pulled the collar of your shirt down to show him the graft that had been lasered over your clavicle, “Good as new.” You pointed at your thigh, “Those are next.” 

He smiled when he was satisfied with your answers. “Your turn.” 

You took a deep breath and let it out slowly, “Who was the man that carried me out of there?” 

“Out of all the questions that you could have asked me, that is what you went with?” 

“Tony…” you sighed. “I know that Cap was there. Along with Sam and Natasha. But before I passed out, I swear I saw a metal arm.”

He had looked away from you as you talked. You could tell he was trying to figure out the best way to answer you. “It was Barnes.”

“So, you have been lying to me for the past couple of years?” You crossed your arms over your chest and shook your head. “He’s been out of cryo and fighting alongside the Avengers. That’s fantastic. You kept that secret better than the fact that you were Ironman. Bravo.”  

He pinched the bridge of his nose, “What do you want from me?” he asked as he threw his arms out to his sides, “At the time, yes, we were friends but you were also a reporter still. The last thing I needed was for you to print a story about Tony Stark going against the accords that he fought so hard for. And good thing that I did, might I add, because here you are safe and sound.” 

“It’s nice to know you didn’t trust me.” You said softly. “I have to go get ready for the party tonight.” You turned and walked for the balcony door. 

“Don’t leave it like this,” Tony said walking behind you.

You pivoted on your heels and raised a hand to stop him, “I will see you in a couple of hours, Tony.” You started walking again, “Please, don’t follow me.”

  


* * *

As a waiter walked past, you set your empty glass on the tray he was carrying and grabbed another champagne. You gulped down half of it before you saw the mayor and his wife approach you. Keeping your strained smile plastered on your face through the pleasantries, you made a quick getaway before they said anything more. 

You fanned yourself with your hand. Lord, it was hot in here. It didn’t help that you were feeling a little nauseous too. 

It was overwhelming. All of these people here to honor you and your “miraculous” and “heroic” escape from your captors. 

_What a sham_. 

The police chief cornered you by the bar before you could make an exit. He was going on about how amazing it was to see you alive and well after the ordeal you’ve been through. Then he started to ask you questions that you weren’t ready to answer.

The room started to spin and you felt like you couldn’t breathe. You needed air…

A pair of hands gently cupped your shoulders from behind you. “Come with me,” a gruff voice said in your ear, before you were being steered toward the elevator. 

Once inside, you caught a peak of a metal arm reaching around you to press the button for the roof. When the doors shut, you looked into the reflection at Bucky. He was standing directly behind you, his flesh hand still on your shoulder. He was watching the numbers ascend before he lowered his eyes to meet yours in the reflection. 

He gave you a small smile before the doors opened on the roof. You quickly walked out and took many deep breaths of fresh air in. Bucky stood beside you quietly, looking up at the night sky. 

You took a moment to get a good look at him. His hair was pulled back into a bun with a couple day’s worth of scruff on his jaw. He was wearing a black dress shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows and the first few buttons undone at his throat. His shirt was tucked into black jeans, adorned with a matching black belt. Shoes were black too. 

“Thank you,” you said softly. 

He just shrugged as he turned his head to look at you, “I know what panic looks like.” 

You looked away from him to gaze at New York lit up at night. You rubbed your bare arms, “Was that you who was reading to me?” You glanced at him, “In the Quinjet on the way back?” 

He stuffed his hands in his pockets and nodded. “Yea, it seemed to soothe you.” 

You took a step toward him, “What were you reading?”

Bucky looked down at his feet for a second before glancing back at you, “My journals.” That surprised you. That had to be deeply personal for him. “It was stupid, but it was all I had.” 

You shook your head at him, “It wasn’t stupid at all.” You reached out and placed your hand on his arm, “In fact, it was the first friendly voice I had heard in nearly two months. And in a language, I actually understood.”  

He chuckled at your poor attempt at a joke.

You removed your hand and looked down at your feet. You could hear the party still in full swing through the open balcony doors below you. You let out a sarcastic laugh, “Everyone in that room came up to me at least once and told me how grateful they were that I was still alive.” You reached up and started taking the pins out of your hair, “I bet not one of them even has noticed that I am gone.” 

When Bucky remained silent, you continued, “Not that it really matters.” You combed your fingers through your hair, “Nothing about my life before I was held hostage feels important anymore. I feel so disconnected from the person I once was. Does that ever go away?”

Bucky moved closer, placing his hands on your bare shoulders, “No it doesn’t.” His thumbs massaged small circles into your skin, “You learn to adjust.” 

Your eyes trailed along his metal arm, watching the plates shift and whir before your eyes connected with his. “I just want to feel alive again,” you whispered. 

You watched as his tongue came out to lick his lips, jaw tensing. You stepped closer, the heat of his body warming yours. He moved his arms down to wrap around you, bringing you closer still. You brought your arms up and clutched at the back of his shirt as he lowered his forehead to rest against yours. Goosebumps rose on your skin when his fingers traced the edge of your dress along your shoulder blades. 

His breath ghosted across your lips as he spoke, “Are you sure about this?”

“Bucky,” you sighed. “Help me live again


End file.
